The Skirt Thing Again

This weekend provided for many delightful experiences, including a visit from my parents. As a Recent College Graduate co habiting with my darlin' in our very own apartment w/ guest bed, I am right on the cusp between the life stages when your parents could not possibly stay with you when they come to visit and when it would be pretty douchey to ask them to stay somewhere else. Thankfully UP (Upstairs Housemate) and DHM (Downstairs Housemate... not "deep hidden meaning," though she has plenty) were into hosting the parents and so in came their traditionally excessive luggage. I hope that I continue to be young and poor enough so that the gift of a free meal out providing two additional meals worth of leftovers will be a feature of these visits for years to come.

As is often known to occur, the visit did allow for several wardrobe comments from the Mother.

Offhandedly: "or you could wear a skirt once in a while." "I really think it's men who lose out in fashion, they're just so comfortable." "If you're making these decisions for comfort, fine. If you Really think boxers are more comfortable.." And etc.

They usually take the form of awkward joking or unnecessary vocal support for feminine attire. Sigh. This manlywoman genderblender is a little sad. I should take this opportunity to point out that I have been overwhelmingly lucky throught the whole "Mommy, Daddy, I'm A Homoqueerlesbidyke" process. Never was it suggested that I was lesser in their eyes, never did I fear losing their love. And they have graciously made a substantial journey in knowledge accumulation.

Mom and I got a chance to talk about the whole thing.

Me: So, the skirts and boxers comments are you just teasing me or a little bit serious.
PAUSE
PAUSE
*Appearance of vaguely frustrated expression on her face*
Mom: Oh, I guess a little bit serious.

She went on to admit a "secret" fear that I'd someday want to become a man. The ol' slippery slope theory. And so what to say? My immediate sense was to assuage her fears, because, well, I wouldn't identify as "trans," nor do I expect to. And while I'd say I definitely identify with the idea of "genderqueer" and seriously value non-binary gender roles and presentation, I don't not identify as "woman." But how to tell her this without making it OK for her to ignore her own transphobia?

What I can say is "No, mommy, I don't want to be a man."

(Left Image is from Kate Bornstein's Gender Workbook, if anyone ever reads this I suppose I'll have to get rid of it)

She used the word "devestating" to describe what it would be like for her if I did want to transform my gender. And then handed out the typical of her generation-even for lesbians-sense that not wanting to be "woman" is a betrayal of feminism.

I had an inner panic, but I shouldn't worry so much, because she actually does get it, when I take the time to talk these things through. Trans identity and trans politics are complicated, vast and not unified and there are certainly trans views that I don't understand or agree with. But me wearing men's clothing, donning short hair, and not freaking out when people call me sir are reflective of a desire to expand what it can mean to be woman-bodied. It's co-opt not adopt. I'm honoring, and building on this feminist tradition that she tried to steep me in as a child. Transgressing woman is not being man, gender is not binary, breath in, breath out. But, if I did need to transition, she would have to learn to be OK with it. Devestated parents is devestating for their kids, I've got enough trans buddies who can attest to that one.

It was one of those hard-but-good conversations we tend to have. The ones that always leave me wishing I'd been more articulate and a little worried about how these ideas would get repeated. Of course maybe the whole teasing thing was really just because I forced her and Daddio to sort bugs with me for a few hours on Friday. "This totally microscopic white thready thing isn't one of them, right? OH, really?"